ATTENTION! This is to the few fans of Unwanted Affection. It's been years, so I'm not sure any of you are still online—but if you are, I want to let you know what's going on. The following chapter is nothing new, unfortunately. It's a re-upload just so that I can get you this message without breaking any rules. Sadly, I've chosen to discontinue Unwanted Affection. However, I am in the process of re-writing it as a totally new story called Deliverance. Quite a lot will change in Deliverance, so I'm leaving Unwanted Affection up for the sake of posterity. I just wanted to let everyone know what's happening. If you're up for it, definitely check out the new story and let me know what you think of it! Also, check out my profile, as there will be a little more information there. Thanks for reading!


Unwanted Affection
written by Mr. Pip

WARNING: This story contains highly sensitive subjects, such as rape, BDSM (bondage), and human-trafficking. If you're planning on leaving a nasty comment because of this, don't waste either of our time, and kindly press the 'Back' button at the top of the screen. I'm sure you'll be able to find a different story better suited to your tastes - one with a happy ending. If you continue reading, do not flame. There will be no happy ending.


CH. 5 (UPDATED 9/1/10)

I awoke to the sound of my own strangled screams, jolting upright and clutching my throat. It took several minutes for me to realize that the terror had been caused by a dream, a false reality - something that obviously couldn't hurt me now that my eyes were open. Only after assuring myself of this, more than once, I'll admit, was I able to regain my thoughts and figure out what to do next. My brain was always a little slow in the mornings.

That said, it took a minute to recollect all of last night's events.

I would have rather forgotten, truthfully.

With a depressed scowl, I scooted into a more comfortable sitting position, dully noting a twinge of pain in the Netherlands. I slowly peeled back the comforter, grimacing when I saw the blood staining the satin sheets. 'Oh god,' I thought, squeezing my eyes closed. Sure, I'd heard that women can bleed after losing their virginity, but I never imagined it was enough to be so noticeable. 'I guess he was too rough.'

Big shocker, huh?

With my eyes still closed, I took a few deep, calming breaths, hoping to realign my thoughts. They were in absolute disarray this morning. On a sigh, my eyes were forced open by some stupid sense of determination, and I took a glance around the room. There wasn't much of interest on the bedside table—only a clock that read six forty-three AM, which was much too early for my liking. My tired gaze flickered to the dresser across from the bed, searching for anything else. More luck there. Atop a small pile of clothes lay a neatly folded sheet of paper, which I could only assume was meant for me.

Shoving the enormous comforter completely off of the bed, I wiggled over the edge, planting my feet firmly on the ground. It hurt a little to move, but I ignored the sting. That note was more important than a little discomfort in my No-No Zone. Walking over to the dresser, one arm wrapped consciously around myself, I plucked up the sheet of paper, hastily unfolded it, and read the girlishly curvaceous letters:

Ellie, I'll be checking in on you around Noon.
Wash up and change your clothes as soon as you're up and about.
Don't get any ideas! I'll be back before you know it.
Trust me...

The note was signed with a big, loopy 'D', which meant two things. One, Damien had prissy hand writing; and two, he was out of his fucking mind. If there had been any indication the night before that I would even consider staying under his roof while he was out...well, there hadn't been any indication, I promise.

I laughed humorlessly. "S'crazy if he thinks I'm staying here," I grumbled to myself, glad to have the freedom to speak my mind. 'I wouldn't mind a shower, though...' Hey, if he was going to be gone for the next five and a half hours, what did I have to lose? A lot of grunge and icky feelings, that's what.

I scooped the pile of clothes into my arms and hobbled toward the bathroom - a wide doorway near the opposite corner of the bed led to one, I'd noticed on my way to read the note. Even though Damien was supposed to be out of the house for the next several hours, I closed and locked the door behind me. Taking the shower was a risk in itself, if I really thought about it. What if he showed up early? My chance at escape would have been ruined.

But damn. I really wanted a shower.

Perhaps I could have convinced myself to forget the shower before I turned around to actually look at the bathroom, but as soon as I laid my eyes on the shower, the deal was set. It was one of those wide, square things that just sits in the center of the room without anything around it. No curtain, no glass...nothing. Just a big open square made of black granite and sterling silver.

"Awesome."

Shaking off the mind-numbing awe, I raided the cabinets for something to dry off with after my shower, pulling a gigantic towel that felt as if it were made from the finest fabric known to man. 'Something foreign, I bet.' Placing the fluffy towel a couple of feet from the shower edge, I turned one of the knobs and earned myself a hot stream of water. After a minute, when the temperature of the water suited me, I stripped down and stepped under the waterfall of a shower, basking in all of its glory.

The puddle of water that gathered at the drain immediately turned a nasty pink color, ruining my mood in about half a second. I sighed and grabbed a small black sisal sponge that rested on a string underneath the fountain, lathering it with what smelled like spearmint body wash. I made sure to scrub all of the blood away, washing my entire body twice. I couldn't help but feel dirty after what had happened last night.

After I was sure I had rid myself of as much of the dirt and blood and other nasty substances as possible, I traded the sponge for a bottle of purplish shampoo. It held a nice fragrance; one that reminded me of lilacs and fuchsia. I squeezed some of the goopy substance into my hand, lathering it fervently through my thick hair. I rinsed the dark mop shortly afterward, conditioned, and then allowed myself to soak for just a few moments.

Regardless of how utterly amazing that enormous shower was, I knew that I needed to get my shit together and get out of Dodge.

I shut the water off with a little reluctance, rung my hair free of most of the water, then grabbed the towel and wrapped it around myself as I stepped out onto the cold tile. I dried my hair a little more with the corner of the towel, then started toward where I'd left the pile of clothes. With more than a little disdain, I picked the pile up and examined what I had to work with.

'Thank god he's got a little dignity,' I thought. What had been provided was a simple pair of worn jeans, a belt, and a white t-shirt. It all looked about two sizes too big, which gave me the impression that I would be wearing his clothes. The undergarments, though, were obviously not his - a little too flashy for my taste, and the bra peeked through the fabric of the shirt because it was all black, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. With little more thought, I slipped into the clothing. I towel-dried my hair some more, brushed four fingers through it, and then left the bathroom.


I was careful as I crept through the house. There was no way I could be one hundred percent sure that Damien wasn't hiding around one of the corners, waiting for me to lower my guard. As soon as I thought it was safe, he would pounce - like a cat on a mouse. With all the adrenaline that found its way into my system, I must have sneaked through the entire house within a matter of minutes, making no noise whatsoever. That was quite a feat, considering how ridiculously enormous the estate was.

As soon as the front door entered my view, I made a run for it, tearing through the heavy wood rectangle and bolting out into the sunlight. I didn't stop to close the door, just kept running, even as my bare feet found themselves crunching against hot gravel.

It wasn't the most comfortable thing, running down a gravel road with no shoes, but I was starting to think that I needed to toughen up. None of this was very comfortable. I had to decide which discomforts were necessary. A few spiky pieces of earth weren't enough to keep me from running, even though I was sure that they were cutting into my feet now. I could almost feel the blood begin to gather on the soles of my feet.


My pace had slowed to a quick jog after only fifteen minutes of running, a fact that might have been embarrassing if I was some Cross Country jock. As it was, I could hardly be bothered to run to the bus stop just a half a block from my house, even when running late. Running was not something I liked to do.

For what must of been the better part of an hour, I kept on jogging.

It was when an eerily familiar black blur popped up in the distance that my steady pace faltered and I instinctively darted to the side of the road. The vehicle was only a few hundred feet away as I tried furiously to hide myself in the skimpy foliage.

All I had to cover myself with was a thick block of thorns and a fluffy bed of daffodils. Neither provided much shelter from the oncoming threat. I settled for shrinking as close to the ground as was physically possible.

The car slowed to a stop about ten feet away.

I heaved a sigh and buried my face in the smelly flowers.

For almost a full minute, nothing happened. Then the soft sound of a window being lowered rang in my ears, and despite my better judgment, I craned my neck to see what fate lay ahead.

"I could have swore I left a note saying to stay in the house," a voice said, easily identified as Damien's. His tone suggesting that he must have expected me to run, because rather than angry or irritated, he sounded just a little amused. Perhaps it was why he was on his way home so early.

"Well, technically," I started, finding the opportunity to smart off just too tempting, "I don't think the note said anything of the sort. Besides, I'm...just out for a walk, getting some fresh air, you know?" It wasn't easy to lie. I had always been a terrible liar, ever since first grade when I stole my best friend's favorite crayon. She hit me and told me that I was going to Hell for lying.

Just like that violent little Bible-thumper, Damien didn't believe a word I said.

"Of course… In any case, why don't you hop in the back and I'll take you home." I could tell he wasn't asking.

As I casually pushed myself off of the flower-coated ground and stood up straight, dusting off my shirt and pretending not to see the suspicious look in his eye, I noticed something that had previously been out of my line of sight. Another man. 'How fucking convenient. He's brought a friend home.'

"Oh… It's okay, really." I gave a dismissive gesture with my hands. "I was just gonna run a little more."

It probably wasn't the greatest idea to say that last part out loud, because as soon as the words left my lips, I could tell he was on to me. Without any consideration of the possible consequences, I started running as fast as possible down the gravel road. To say that I expected to really escape would have been an optimistic overstatement - I didn't expect to get away at all, considering the facts.

Damien had a car. Damien was probably faster than me. Oh, and, apparently Damien had a buddy to help him out! All I had was a pair of powerful legs and a whole lot of adrenaline.

Ten seconds passed and I had to see how I was doing. Before I could decide against it, my head was turning. To my astonishment, instead of the car or Damien, only his anonymous friend was chasing after me...and he was fucking fast. I pushed myself further. When I glanced back again, he was only about six or seven feet away. I screamed and tried to run even faster, ignoring the searing pain in my legs and feet.

There was a very slight tickling against the back of my arm where his fingers touched. I squealed again and willed myself to move faster, but in the next second, there was a heavy new force slamming into me from behind, forcing me face-first into the gravel. The man planted himself firmly on top of me even as I squirmed and screamed, apparently ignorant of the fact that I was threatening to cut his testicles off and feed them to my goldfish.

A couple of minutes passed and all I could hear was the rapid beating of my heart, his breath behind my ear, and a pair of love birds chirping in the distance. I had slowed my struggles and only wiggled uncomfortably now, quite aware of the fact that this guy had at least a hundred pounds on me (and an iron grip, to boot).

Sooner than I would have liked, two wheels came backing into my view. It was bad enough that one man thought he had the right to handle me like his property, but now there were two of them? What was with this world? Damien stuck his head out of the car window and shouted at his friend, who then rolled off of me and lifted me up over his shoulder.

I had only enough energy to grumble in complaint as the stranger forced me into the back seat of Damien's Black Car of Doom. I didn't move when he closed the door, fully aware that I wasn't going to escape. When Mr. Man had found his way into the passengers seat, the vehicle lurched forward, puttering down the gravel road in an almost comforting way. Just a couple of minutes into the ride, I passed out.

I blame my inability to stay awake on overexertion and stress.